“Your work with the Team, for example.”
Sasha loved that Darius understood. “Yes.”
He traced his fingertips lazily up her spine. “When Nicole first told me that you joined the Team because it made you happy to save lives, some cynical part of me thought she was just a fan who saw you through rose-colored lenses.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Here’s this beautiful young woman with a stellar athletic career, lots of money, and fame, and she chooses to use her skill to rescue people.”
“Is that so strange?”
He smiled. “It’s not strange for you. But I cut my teeth as a detective protecting celebrities—men and women—who never did anything without an ulterior motive. They were always working an angle.”
“What a sad way to live.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Are you going to be able to join us tomorrow? The live stream of the competition starts at seven in the evening in Bratislava, which is eleven here.”
“I’ll try to come to Knockers for lunch, but I’ve got a pretty full day.”
Sasha refused to feel disappointed. She ran her fingers over his bruised chest. “I know you’re working hard to catch this guy. We can stream it tomorrow night if you have to miss it—that is, if you want to watch it.”
“Of course, I want to watch, but you might have to explain a few things.”
“Sending it now.”Darius tapped a message into Watts’ mobile phone, Deputy Marcs looking over his shoulder.
They busted Riggs. They think he did it. What do you want me to do?
On Darius’ screen, Kelso nodded. “I see it. We’re tracking it. Now we wait.”
Darius had no idea whether Tiger889 would respond or whether he was sending this text message to a burner phone that had already been abandoned. But they would soon find out.
The phone had been hooked up to the system, so the message included an encrypted recorder that would gather data and send it back to be validated and then securely stored with forensics. It was the most cutting-edge tech they had for situations like this. If they were lucky, they’d get a location for the phone.
“What happens if we get nothing, if he doesn’t answer?” Marcs asked.
“This isn’t our only iron in the fire. We’ll find this bastard.”
With the FBI’s muscle behind him, Darius had served the various social media companies with warrants for identifying information for Tiger889—his ISP address, his email address, and any other information they might have.
“Thanks for your help on this one, Kelso. I’m going to head out for an early lunch. Let me know if you get anything.”
“Will do.”
Darius ended the virtual meeting and got to his feet, planning to spend the next couple of hours with Sasha watching the world championships. She put a brave face on it, but he knew it must be hard to be sidelined, especially given how it had happened. “Are you coming to Knockers?”
Marcs shook her head. “Some of us have to work. I’ve got a lot of shit that’s piled up this past week.”
“Sorry you’ll miss it.”
“Tell Sasha hi for me.” Deputy Marcs left.
“I will.” He slipped his concealed carry weapon into his pocket holster and drove to the pub. It was only a short distance from the substation, and he could have walked. But he would rather have his vehicle on hand should he need it than lose ten minutes running to fetch it.
He stepped through the door and found Knockers transformed. Extra TVs had been positioned where everyone could see them, clusters of yellow and pink helium balloons tied everywhere.
He waved to Marcia, the bartender, who was filling a mug with beer. “Hey, Marcia. How’s it going?”
